


Three simple words

by roby_lia



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roby_lia/pseuds/roby_lia
Summary: At the end he tells him when he’s drunk, which isn’t a surprise at all.





	Three simple words

**Author's Note:**

> Or I’m having some bad days and I needed something funny to do.  
> Also, translate in like half hour, I’m sorry for my mistake.

At the end he tells him when he’s drunk, which isn’t a surprise at all.

That _thing_ , that _feeling_ that kept growing unwanted under his ribcage day after day, had become too big to still keep it a secret without risking to get lost in it. That night was as good as any other else to let it slip out, his plan sustained by the good number of drinks he already had.

He tells him in the middle of the night, when only their merry band was still celebrating the success of their last job and only few other costumers were still awake.

He tells him in a whisper, while the others are distracted by Goody’s story and he’s long lost the will to stand, preferring lean on him and let his head find a nice spot on his shoulder.

He tells him against his neck, when he move the head to breathe deeply in, that scent so familiar after all those months together.

He tells “I love you” and Vasquez hummed thoughtfully, moving the arm in a better position around his shoulder, to pull him even closer if that’s possible.

Closing his eyes, Faraday sighs satisfied.

(He’s pretty sure he told him again shortly after, when the Mexican dragged him to the room and tossed on the bed.

Faraday is pretty sure to have say “I love you” again, or maybe it was a “Stay.”

Maybe it was both, the meaning is the same after all.)

 

 

 

After that first time he can’t stop himself to say it again and again. It’s like he poured some whiskey and Vasquez, with an absent hand’s movement, throw a still light match and everything caught fire. (He’s afraid if he stop saying it he would burn from the inside)

 

 

 

The second time he more slurred it out, while Vas coax the pain out of his leg

Nights sleeping under the stars and day riding always faster to catch up the bad guys of the moment didn’t help his old wounds and the rough terrain of the river bank was the final blow, damn those stupid canteens they should fill.

It’s only thanks to Vasquez’s quick reflexes that he didn’t end on his ass when his leg suddenly gave up.

“Easy guero, I got you.”

Then Vas help him to sit and start work with confidence the scars. After all he know even too well were they were, Vas was right by his side for all the time of his recovery.

At first the pain almost goes worst, but then Vasquez starts speaking in that hushed way he usually reserve to horses, and Joshua suddenly understands why his Jack is always so cooperative towards the Mexican, he too would do anything to have constantly those hands on him.

With these thought in mind ( _hell, I can’t really be jealous of a horse_ ) and the head light for the absence of the pain, he could have whispered “God, I love you so much,” against his will, but the world spin nicely around them, the grass he’s lying on is still warm from the sunshine and everything seems perfect.

Vasquez laugh lightly, sitting beside him and lighting up a cigar, then he puts a hand on in knees to comfort him and everything become even better, if it’s possible.

 

 

 

“Do you know how much I love you?”

“No.”

“I really really really love you. Really.”

“No.”

“C’mon Vas!”

“No. We played, you lose. You stand guard tonight. I already did yesterday.”

“Vaaas. The boredom will kill me, out there all alone. Not to mention the cold.”

“Your problem, I already did my part yesterday, thank you.”

Joshua makes a hurt sound, but Vasquez doesn’t even open the eyes from his cozy spot near the fireplace.

“You’re useless. And I still don’t understand why we have to stand guard, nobody is so stupid to stay out with this cold. You should-“

“Faraday, go out or I swear I throw you out and lock the door until tomorrow morning,” Goody growls. Josh answers making a face going out in the cold of the night.

 

 

The time for Red to take his place never comes too early, but maybe, just maybe, it’s been all worth it, even only to find Vas still half asleep but up nonetheless, warming up the coffee for him.

Not to mention that now he has a good excuse to bucking with him, making the other huff annoyed when he puts his cold hands against his skin.

Vasquez squirms for a moment, but then he yawns and Josh searches for an even better position of his nose against his neck.

“Do you know how much I love you?”

“I’m not get up again to fetch you another cup of coffee, guero.”

 

 

 

“Stop squirming,” Billy’s order is definitely unkind, while the man dig in his shoulder searching for the bullet.

Josh clenches his teeth barely holding back a curse, but then Vas is by his side with a bottle of whiskey and everything become manageable after a drink, and even more when Vasquez starts calm him down with his Spanish whispers and strokes between his hair.

He barely realizes that Billy already finished his work.

“You know I love you, right?” he asks at the end, the head light for the booze and the adrenaline rush.

Joshua is pretty sure the answer isn’t in English, but it’s also true that the only things he’s sure of is Vas’ body press against himself, like they want become one.

 

 

 

At the end, telling those three words become almost an habit.

After all it’s the better answer he can give when the other one cusses at him with what he thinks are long string of colorful Spanish insults. He would never expect anything else from Vasquez, after all.

For sure he wouldn’t expect to be grabbed in the middle of a shooting by that furious Mexican who apparently has forgotten how to speak his second language while dragging him to cover.

“Vas, what the fuck?!”

“Pince cabron,” the other growls, pushing him against the wall.

Ok, maybe he was acting a little too reckless even for his standards, but that was nothing new “The hell is this shit?”

Vasquez growls again, but then he sighs shaking his head.

“You love me, sì?”

The question let Faraday gasping for breath, because that definitely wasn’t the place nor the moment for that kind of talk, shit, but apparently for the other is more than enough.

“Then stop risk to get shot in that stupid way, I love you too, estupido.”

And after that Vasquez goes back in the middle of the shootout.

 

 

Joshua would be very pissed off if, after what he said, that idiot end up being shot or some shitty novel thing like that.

Luckily, even if his horse is indeed white, Vas is far away from being a prince charming, and Josh couldn’t restrain the satisfaction when the Mexican kill the last one of their fugitives.

And even if he’d like to grab him and push him against a wall in turn, if to beat him or to do other things he doesn’t even know, the rest of the seven are still there, and Josh won’t give them that satisfaction, mostly because he’s quite sure they’ve a wage about Vasquez and him going on.

So he resists the temptation until they go back to the town that hired them, and while Sam and Goody go to collect their reward, the others take care of the food and the rooms, letting the two of them to take care of the horses like always.

After all, with all that action, his Jack was always intractable, and Faraday was the only one who could get closer without risking a bite. And where Faraday is, Vasquez is never too far away.

“So,” Faraday decides to start after freeing Jack from the saddle, but he finds himself without words.

“So what, guero?” the other asks, having even the courage to look casual, pouring the water for the horses.

“…really, you are pretending nothing’s happened?”

“What happened?”

“You fucking said you love me.”

“Oh. Sì, and so? You said it all the time.”

“Yes, but you never said it back!”

“I do.”

Josh snorts “No, you _don’t_. I would fucking know if you said it back.”

“Well, I _do_. Did.”

“No, you don-“ words stop in his throat when he sees the smirk Vasquez wasn’t even try to hide.

“Oh. Oh, you bastard. You were saying it in Spanish.”

“I always told you to learn it.”

“You fucking son of a-“ his curse miserably fails when the other kiss him, but at the end he can’t complain too much.

“You are betting with the other, aren’t you?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“We’re sharing your wins, know this.”

Whatever Vasquez wanted to answer, is lost when Josh kisses him again.


End file.
